


The Skies May Crack

by Dragestil



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Non-sexual, Urban Magic Yogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 07:43:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6043696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragestil/pseuds/Dragestil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smith, a kelpie new to city living, learns one of the quirks of his mortal witch roommate, Lom, and the pair have a small chance to grow closer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Skies May Crack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alison_Wonderland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alison_Wonderland/gifts).



> By request for Ali, my Smith's Lom :3

It had been a little more than a week since the kelpie had moved into the witch’s apartment. There had been no _major_  disasters, and the pair actually seemed to be getting along with each other nicely. Of course, there were hiccoughs - like when Smith decided to play guitar at three in the morning when Lomadia had to wake up the next day, but those were simple enough solved. The two were even starting to properly get to know each other.

It had been a rainy and bleak day by all standards. The sun hadn’t shown its face at all, and the street-lights were reflected by the wet pavement. Weather reports suggested it wasn’t likely to clear up, so as dinnertime approached, the fae suggested ordering something to be delivered. He went so far as paying for it himself too, just to seal the deal with his new housemate.

“So do you eat out often?” he asked as he brought two bags laden with food over to the couch.

“Not when it’s just me. I can cook well enough to feed myself, and takeaway can be so expensive if you aren’t sharing or making a few meals of it,” Lom answered as she tucked her feet up under her and nodded at the space beside her. “If you pull the coffee table a bit closer, we can just eat off that. Did they pack forks and knives?”

Smith returned her nod as he pulled the table closer with one foot and set the bags on top of it. He rummaged through to pull out the two sets of utensils and the slightly bent paper plates along with a large stack of napkins that presumed they would eat messily. He offered her one set before motioning to the bags before them.

“Ladies first,” he said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes. She didn’t need to have known him for long to know that this suave and gentlemanly act was just that. Still, she appreciated the offer and was never going to turn down the chance to have the best and first pick of food. So she made quick work of sorting through the various food containers and piling her plate with the choicest selections.

The kelpie smiled as he watched. He could really get behind a girl with an appetite like that. Even if it did mean he would have less for himself. He was suddenly glad he’d ordered a lot by even his standards. There was still a little more than half the total order left when Lom sat back after all, and he could content himself with that.

Lom turned the TV on before she started eating - nothing good was on, but it was background noise to drown out the growing storm and the sounds of their eating. She tried not to seem like she was rushing, even if her food was disappearing at far more than a casual pace. She just wanted to make sure she had a full stomach before the proper storm set in. If she didn’t, the night would only take longer to pass.

“You alright there, Lom?” Smith asked, fork halfway to his mouth as he cocked a brow at his companion. “You did eat lunch today right?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing. Food’s just good is all.”

The kelpie didn’t press. Sure he was still fairly shit at most mortal customs and cares, but even _he_  knew that some things were better left untouched. If the witch didn’t want to tell him something, then he was probably better off not knowing - or at least until she decided to let him in or solved the problem. Anyway, she was an adult - if only a mortal one. She could handle herself just fine without help (and had been doing so up until he moved in).

The rest of their meal passed in relative silence. Lom occasionally glanced at the darkness beyond their rain-drenched windows, and Smith watched as surreptitiously as he could manage. Finally, though, as they were both finishing up, the sky let loose. With a crack of thunder that rattled the whole building, the storm’s grand finale began.

The witch let out a terrified yelp before she could stop herself and nearly leapt from the couch, bolting toward the safety of the guest - no, now it was _Smith’s_  bedroom - windowless and therefore sheltered somewhat from the storm. She didn’t even think about the room’s new occupant though as she dove onto the bed and clambered under the thick, green quilt, wrapping herself tightly in it.

So that was the problem them, the kelpie thought as he watched. Any other time, and he might have teased for the display of fear - but the terror now seemed far too real for that. Lom needed someone to care for her, to calm her, not to make her feel worse. He hurried to clean up from dinner before slipping into his room, shutting the door securely behind him. He crossed carefully to his bed, pausing only to grab his guitar from its stand before settling himself near the quavering mass of blankets.

“I’ve got some new songs I’ve been working on. Why don’t you poke your head out so you can tell me what you think of them?” he encouraged softly.

He shifted back until he was sitting with his back against the wall and his guitar resting in his lap. Slowly, the bundle joined him, scooting up the bed to sit closer. A blonde head appeared and looked quickly from side to side, as if checking for danger. The only response was the continued rumbling of the storm outside. 

Smith offered Lom a soft smile as he began to play. He didn’t really have much to go off of. He’d largely been in a creative slump. But Lom didn’t need to know that. And there were plenty of songs that weren’t necessarily _new_ , but at least had never been heard beyond the confines of his lake. So he strummed his guitar and sang, just loudly enough that his voice and his music would drown out the thunder and rain for the witch gradually beginning to lean against him. Even as her eyes began to droop, her head settled against his shoulder, the kelpie played on. After all, it was rare that his music could be used to keep someone safe.


End file.
